Metroid: Doom
by Raw Sewage Writings
Summary: A hostage crisis at the BSL station orbiting Mars calls for the skills of the Marine Corps' Space Marine Regiment; But their troubles don't end there. A dormant infection of an unknown life form wreaks havoc on the BSL and its surface facility, Olduvai. (Elements taken from Metroid Fusion and the Doom movie. Will update regularly. Reviews encouraged)
1. Prologue

Prologue

Screeching through the black of space, the bulky, sharp nosed ship tore above the red, dust surface of Phobos. The beak shaped craft, inclined its course, flying over a rather tall formation of the rim of the crater. The triple thrusters blared from the stern of the ship, carrying the craft deeper into the shallow reaches of space from the moon's atmosphereless surface. Suddenly, the nose dipped down drastically and the moon's weak gravitational pull lured it back. The craft shuddered from the gain of momentum, and the thrusters gunned the ship back to the surface. With a sudden jolt, the the nose was pulled back up, trying to stabilize. Banking off to the side, the craft soared over another crater. With a violent clash, the starboard wing crashed on a development of solid rock in the midst of the crater. The ship spun hazardously from the impact, sending the craft careening across the crater to the drastically sloping wall. The beak like nose of the ship dipped and crashed to the surface. As the rest of the body hit down hard, it scraped the red-hued ground, sending sparks and dust up around the bow and a slicing a gray trench in its wake. A burst of flame and dust exploded from the askew impact on the starboard side; the entire wing port crumpled from the crash. The thrusters flared white-hot before exploding, completely engulfing the entire ship in the scorching flame.

With sharp eyes focused sternly through the window screen of the cockpit, Adam stood with his arm against the headrest of the copilot's seat in front of him. He was praying, praying in his mind that it wasn't too late. He could still hear the call through the static of the transmission. Her voice was panicky; that wasn't like her, she. He knew her better than that and known she could handle herself. The tone and shake of her voice said differently.

"What's our ETA?" he demanded gruffly, keeping the anxiety from his voice.

"The beacon's one mike out," the copilot announced in his headset.

"Alright, Adam muttered as he turned and walked through the entry and descended the short flight of steps to the cargo bay. "One mike out, last check on gear," he commanded out loud to the passengers inside. Seven either sat on the benches against the wall or stood on the floor, grasping the net overhead for stability. The Five of the medical detachment wore orange, pressurized oversuits with a clear visor helmet on their heads. Two tubes stretched from the back of the helmet to the console attached to the back of their belts. The remaining three, including Adam were clad in green, light Power Armor worn over their gray fatigues. Adam reached to a shelf against the wall and claimed his own helmet. Securing it on the slide locks around his suit's collar, the internal systems booted. On his visor displayed in his face was his HUD. Swiftly, he drew his DP-4 pistol. The linkup on the glove of his suit uploaded the interface of his pistol. Instantly a targeting reticule glowed in his face on the HUD. As he scanned the cargo bay with the muzzle angled down, the reticule corresponded with the same movement. Reholstering his DP-9, the reticule disappeared.

"First Responder 25, we're at the crash site," the pilot's voice said in his suit's comm link.

"Copy that, lowering the ramp," Adam replied. "Olsen," he called out to a man standing in the front of the cargo bay clad in a similar suit of armor. "Hit the switch." Olsen gave a nod to his chief and slung his carbine on his shoulder then held down the switch on the control console on wall. Behind the eight-manned group, the door to the cockpit slid shut. The ramp in front lowered as the servos whirred in a high pitch. Moments later the ramp was open. "This is First Responder 25, we're oscar mike." Adam led the rest off the ship. Out in front of them, a trench cut across the ground. Turning to his right, he followed the trench with his stern eyes, he found the smoking wreckage crashed into steep wall of the crater. Taking off in a run, Adam ran down the trench with the rest of the crew following behind. The crash was bad. The hull was crumpled and the window screen on the beak-like nose was shattered by the hard impact. The exterior lights flickered randomly. Assessing the wreckage, his anxiety set in again. Finally reaching the ship, the other two in the green armor of his security platoon approached with their SE-7 carbines shouldered. Scanning over the hull of the ship, Will Fuller keyed his commlink.

"No sign of an engagement," he reported.

"There wasn't," Adam snapped back.

"Then how did she crash?" Olsen inquired.

"Quit frickin talking and start cutting," their chief growled. "Who's got that lance?" From behind, one of the doctors approached, carrying a tripod, collapsible device. Adam ripped it from his grip then climbed onto the wing. "One of you doctors, get up here," he called out gruffly. Under different circumstances, he would step back and follow around one of the doctors to take charge. As the chief of the security detachment, his job was purely to protect the science and medical personnel of the Union Aerospace Corporation. But this was personal and there was a need for hurry. Unfolding the tripod, he secured the suction to the hull and extended the laser mounted arm. Working the controls on the device, he initiated the laser. The bright, narrow beam pierced through the hull. Pressing another button, the arm started to revolve under the legs of the tripod. With a single revolution, the circular slab of the hull dropped and clanged on the metal deck inside. Adam removed the entry lancer and quickly dropped through the newly cut hole. With another clang, he landed in a squat then straightened up. His rather tall physique made him feel like he had to duck even with the three foot head clearance. "Let's go, get a move on," he commanded through the hole. Carefully, the doctor slid one leg at a time through the entry then pushed off inside the ship. Landing with a messy clang, she grunted and stumbled forward, catching her fall with her hands. Adam pressed forward. On either side, the in-workings of the ship were exposed. Wires sent off electric discharges and dangled freely. The interior lights flickered spookily a lending little light inside the wreckage. Using the interface of his suit, he activated the headlights placed on his helmet. The doctor, a slim, young, bright-eyed blonde with pale skin followed apprehensively. Clutched tightly by her nerves in her hands was a hard case of medical supplies. Each of their steps clanged on the metal deck plates as they approached a sealed door. Adam rested his open palm on the holstered handle of his DP-9 as his other hand reached out to a control panel beside the door. Pressing the button, the corresponding lights flickered on briefly, sliding the door only a foot and a half into the wall. Sparks spit from the circuits around the door and it jammed in place. "Crap," he growled. Adam shuffled into the brief clearance and pushed against the door. Grunting with strain he pressed against the door, managing to allow another foot of clearance by the terrible screech of metal and eruption of more sparks. Looking back to his left, he cocked his head. "Lets go, Doc." With anxious steps, Adam entered into the cramped, dark cockpit. In the middle of the small area was a tall-backed seat behind a collection of control panels and monitors. Sparks spit from the control panels and staticy, shimmering displays struggled to stay on the monitors in the wreckage. The green-tinged window screen was breached with a large hole in the front and a web of cracks spreading on the surface. Adam hurried to the side of the pilot's seat, breathing heavily with concern on his stern face. Slumped forward over the controls was a bulky, armored figure. "Oh no," he muttered under his breath as he scanned over the orange, plated body of the pilot. Grasping the flat, curved shoulders plates of her suit, Adam gently pushed her upright in her seat; her helmeted head still slumped over her chest. "Samus! Come on Lady, answer me!" Adam pleaded with a gruff growl in his throat. She still sat limply in the seat, unresponsive to her own name; not even a shrewd comeback to her mock title. "She's out cold," he reported. The doctor approached to the other side of the seat holding a wand like device in one hand and a small monitor in the other. She hovered the wand over the pilot's limp form, eyes darting to the monitor in hand.

"I've got her vitals," she announced. "They're weak but there. We've got to get her to the ship and fast so we can run a diagnostic." The doctor suddenly jumped as she heard the shattering of glass. Snapping her attention to the front of the cockpit, nearly dropping her instruments in fright, she saw Adam give a series of hard, straight kicks at the window in front, making the hole bigger.

"Chief, everything all right?" Inquired Fuller. Outside on the moon's surface, the security guard had snapped his carbine to the source of the disturbance in the front of the cockpit.

"No, we've got to get her to the infirmary pronto. Tell one of those doctors down there to head back to the dropship and send another up here with a stretcher."

"Roger that," Fuller said over the com. With the help of the doctor inside the wreckage, Adam managed to sever the crash restraints on the pilot's seat and pry her away from the control terminals. Within moments, another doctor had climbed onto the battered nose of the wreckage and handed the collapsible stretcher through the enlarged hole of the window. Adam carefully lifted the pilot onto the stretcher then with the assistance of both doctor's, hefted the heavy figure through the hole. With the added assistance of Olsen, the four of them held up each corner grip of the stretcher and climbed down the battered hull of the wreckage. Adam led them quickly across the dusty surface of the moon back to the awaiting dropship. Their boots clanged on the metal deck of the ramp and continued noisily into the cargo bay. Already inside, one of the doctors had set up first aid station. Secured to the deck was a metal docking frame for the stretcher, surrounded by an IV console and other easily stowed monitors.

"Get her on the table," commanded the blonde doctor as she handed off her corner of the stretched before breaking off from the group. Making her way to the front of the cargo bay, she hit the switch of the ramp controls which whirred loudly as it sealed shut. Reaching first to the console on her belt line, she unsecured the hoses then removed her helmet, freeing her mess of a bun of blonde hair. Her pale blue eyes were wide open and focused as she starting issuing the orders. Turning to the security guards off to the side, she pointed to the cockpit. "One of you tell them to get us back aboard the shuttle."

"Yes Ma'am," answered Olsen. She removed the rather bulky gloves of her orange oversuit.

"Get that armor off her," she ordered as she went off to the side for her medical instruments. Adam had backed away along with the other security guards, allowing the four doctors to do their work. The dropship's thrusters engaged, taking them away from the surface of the moon. All the time, Adam kept a straight, focused look on his hard face, though inside, he was wracked with worry. The doctor approached the table now with blue latex gloves and a stethoscope around her neck. Adam watched her thin, pale face for a reaction, any sign of Samus' condition; focusing so much on her features, he was surprised to find a drastic similarity of her face. They shared the same eyes, hair color and even nose. Samus of course had a far fuller and stronger version of their features but it was breathtaking just how alike they were. "Anything?" the doctor inquired of the others.

"No sign of trauma, internal bleeding or any injury at all."

"The suit shielded her from the crash," suggested another. The doctor looked down at her patient, stripped down to the sleeveless top of her blue zero suit with the orange, armored leg plates still in place. Her own short-cut blonde hair was matted from her armor's helmet, now discarded to the floor of the cargo bay along with the other plates of her power armor. Her eyes were closed and mouth cracked open in a troublingly relaxed state. Over her nose and mouth was a breathing mask with a single clear hose reaching to a console among the medical equipment.

"Pulse?" she inquired. The reply wasn't good. The inside of the cargo bay beeped slowly and sparsely from the monitors registering her vitals. As the doctors worked to treat their patient, Adam could feel his own heartbeat pound within the confines of his power suit, thundering in his ears. One of the doctors glanced down to the floor at the discarded shoulder and chest plates and helmet. He frowned and bent down to the inspect the chest more closely. On the edge of the plating, he rubbed away at a slimy, orange residue.

"Uh, Samantha," he called out. "You should take a look at this." The blonde haired doctor looked up from her patient to the doctor across the table, holding up the shoulder plate. Adam inspected her expression, unnerved suddenly by the widening of her eyes and drop of her mouth. Adam dropped onto the bench against the wall, watching intently, slouching with his elbows rested on his knees and clasped hands held in front of his mouth, muttering quietly under his breath.

"Damn it, Samus, what's happened to you?"


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Edwards, California/ Earth/ 07:49 hours/ 7-23-2059

With a brisk single stroke, the cue clacked against the green six ball, sending it in a straight bee-line into the corner pocket. With a grunt of approval, Jed smirked and rounded the table. Reaching to the mug set on the wooden frame of the table, he lifted the amber colored beer to his unshaven mouth and drank; the developed muscles of his biceps contracting at the bend of his arm. His sharp blue eyes looked past the rim of the glass to the red velvet surface of the table as the beverage drained slowly into his mouth. Placing it back on the edge of the table, he cricked his thick neck and bent over with the cue stick ready in hand. The door to the bar opened, as a dark skinned man stepped inside. The misty inside of the bar was dominantly dark, except from the glow of neon signs all around and the glare of the flatscreens installed on each of the walls; each of them broadcasting the same game of baseball. Glancing around, he paused as he came across Jed, alone at the corner pool table. His focused expression changed ever so slightly with a frown of worry; just enough worry as not to hinder his stature as a hard, lethal, Marine. Taking his steps inside, he stopped a passing waitress in a skimpy outfit.

"Hey send a Corona to that table over there," he said with a darkly toned, smooth voice accompanied with an even smoother, toothy smile. Silently she nodded then continued pass him. He stepped up behind Jed, occupied with pocketing the last ball. Jed gave another stroke and the cue sailed over the red velvet. The orange striped thirteen ball was just barely nicked in a wide angle. Crawling to the side pocket, it hit just an inch away from the opening.

"Crap," Jed sighed. Looking over his shoulder, Simone clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Damn thirteen." Jed turned to Simone who stood merely six inches taller than him. "Bad luck," he added. Jed rolled his eyes and rounded the table to his drink again. Pleased with himself, Simone grinned turning as the waitress approached with his bottle of Corona balanced on her tray. "Thanks baby," he said smoothly. She turned away and walked back to the bar. With each step she took, Simone admired her shape. He glanced away to Jed, standing across the pool table drinking with his back to him. "Hey man, don't you know to never drink alone?" Simone chuckled. Jed turned back around with half his mug empty.

"I'm grieving, what do you want?" Jed barked at him.

"This is you grieving? Remind me to tag along at your next funeral," Simone said with another chuckle. Jed shot him a dirty glare. Immediately, Simone dropped his smile. Though he Jed was just an inch short of average, Simone knew his fellow Marine's hot tempered reputation. "Hey man I'm sorry that was uncalled for," he said with sincerity. Jed's hostile gaze faded as he placed the cue stick on the wall. "I'm just checking in."

"Dawson's orders?" Jed asked hotly as he walked away from the pool table with his coat and mug in hand.

"Nah man, just me."

"You've checked, now go," Jed replied as he approached the bar. Simone snorted; Jed's manner was no surprise to him.

"You know," he started as he followed Jed to the bar. "Its not like 'Reaper' to take time off like this," he mocked. Jed lifted his mug to his mouth, eyes on the game on the TV.

"Any man that refuses R&R is effed in the head," he said before tilting his drink. Simone laughed as he shook his head with his own drink hovering around his pronounced lips.

"Amen to that." A silent pause filled took place, filled by the faint new-age industrial track playing on the radio of the bar. Simone took it upon himself to break the silence, knowing perfectly well, Jed never would. "You know you left pretty quick," he stated, looking to his left with an open, concerned expression. "I mean, how come you don't talk much about your home life? I'm pretty sure the rest of the guys are all content with the idea that you just live at the team's room on base." Jed raised his eyebrows with subtle amusement. "Like, what was your sister's name?" Simone asked with genuine curiosity in a suggesting tone. A pause filled between them before Jed finally looked away from the TV screen.

"Samantha," he answered solemnly.

"Samantha Grimm," Simone echoed in thought. "Who's older?" A shorter pause took place.

"She was," he replied.

"Ha, you were the baby." Simone mocked.

"Screw you," Jed said with a hint of a smirk. The both of them grinned and laughed subtly for a moment before going in for another drink of their bears. A series of three beeps rang from Simone's jacket pocket. Jed's focus immediately snapped to the source. Simone dipped his hand in and brought out his phone. Swiping the screen with his thumb, the LCD display glowed on the screen.

_Duke, get your ass back to base. Briefing in ten mikes._

_-Sarge_

"Crap," Simone exclaimed as he looked away from the screen. He quickly pulled his wallet from his jeans' rear pocket and placed down the bills for his drink. Jed dipped to his own pocket and grasped his own phone, wondering what was happening. "Look, just don't become a darn alcoholic before we get back, alright?" Simone pleaded.

"We? Your moving out?" Jed replied with a frown.

"Yeah," Simone answered as he began to turn away.

"Where?" Jed persisted. Simone shrugged.

"Sarge hasn't said yet," he said. Jed paused for a moment before grabbing his own coat and pulling it on. Quickly, he ripped the money from his own wallet and placed it on the bar before taking off to the door.

"Let's go," he said as he passed by him.

"What?"

"Let's go," he repeated.

"You're on leave," Simone said with protest.

"Leave's over," Jed declared solidly as he held open the bar's door.

"Your serious?" he protested further as he slid through the door into the blazing sunlight.

"Dead."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Edwards Joint Operations Base/ Edwards, California/ Earth/ 08:07 hours/ 7-23-2059

The drive to the base was short. They took Jed's jeep, roaring down the streets to the fenced off area in the middle of the barren wasteland of Edward's California. Halting at the front gate, awaiting clearance from the MPs, Jed had removed his sunglasses from his face and glowered at the security drone hovering over the hood of his SUV. Upon getting the approval of the MP, the gate slid open and he proceeded forward, weaving around the security barriers as he made his way to the smaller of the five buildings, all connected by a network of over passes made of glass and steal. All through the five minute drive from the bar, Simone continued to protest Jed's decision to crash in on the briefing; a discussion which carried all the way down the sidewalk, through the hall and to the designated room of the Marine Corps' 863rd Regiment. Commonly referred to as the 'Space Regiment,' the 863rd was a fairly young branch of Special Operations established just years after the organization the global, governing Federation. "Hey man so what happened to 'anyone that refuses R&R is effed in the head?" Simone persisted, standing at the frame of the doorway.

"Who said I'm not?" Jed replied simply as he stepped past him. The room was more like a club house than the briefing room of a military base. A sofa was placed against the right wall with a flat screen on the wall and a weathered armchair adjacent to it. A line of metal lockers covered the entire back wall. Against the left wall was an ordinary red, finished refrigerator with a microwave situated ontop. Beside the fridge was even a bench press and assortment of weights. Pinned and taped to the bare spaces of the white-walled room was a collage of recruitment posters, calenders and nude woman. In the center, was a simple, wooden, circular table meant for two purposes; briefings and poker night. Seated in the armchair was Klarke Hayes. His high and tight bleach blonde hair always reminded Jed of the Russian boxer in one of the ancient Rocky movies. Simone had even tried to coin the nickname 'Dolf' for him but for some reason, Klarke preferred 'Goat', and that was what stuck among the squad. Klarke sat with his feet up on the recliner, his gray eyes scrolling across the page of the book he was reading. Seated on the sofa was another of the squad. His black high and tight gave him an extra two inches which made him not look as short as he really was. Hikaroshi was too hard a name to pronounce, leaving the squad to call him by his field name, Mack. Mack looked away from the screen and frowned as Reaper stormed inside.

"Hey, thought you were on leave," he said.

"Yeah well, crap happens," Jed replied shortly as he walked deeper into the room.

"Sarge call him back?" Mack asked turning to Simone.

"Nope," he shrugged.

"What's got him then?"

"Hell if I know," Simone shrugged. "Its Reaper." Jed approached the table in the center where a slim-built, crusty faced, ginger haired man sat with one half of the deck of cards in his hand. The other half was in the hands of another man whose, smooth, rounded face made him look far younger than his age of twenty-nine. Tim Gould, the ginger with a sly look in his beady eyes, sneered at Ben Johnson across from him.

"Gould, where's Dawson?" Jed demanded. Gould's beady eyes revolved in their sockets, looking away from his deck at Jed.

"I don't know," he replied with a shake of his head and slight shrug of his bony shoulders.

"Jed," punched a voice from behind. Jed turned and looked over his shoulder to the massive, dark skinned, head shaved man standing in the doorway. His large build showed through the dark olive green single pieced fatigues. GySgt Dawson stared at him with a strong, wide open gaze. He was the traditional strong-man Marine. His own men often forgot his first name, sparsely calling him Dawson but more frequently referring to his rank by practice.

"Sarge," Jed greeted sharply as he walked up to him.

"I didn't call you in," Sarge stated with a stiff tone.

"Yeah I noticed," he said. Sarge stepped back into the hall and Jed followed. The both of them stood just to the side of the open door. "So you're mobilizing?" Jed continued with a prickly tone. Sarge stood solid and landed a heavy gaze on him.

"Yes," he answered solemnly. "We got enough men, I called in Johnson. Go on home, take the rest of your leave." Sarge's tone was calm, consoling and inviting to follow, but Jed was hard to dissuade.

"I only agreed to R&R cause you said it would be a slow week," Jed growled in reply, nearly taking a step up to his massive squad leader. Just then, a Marine not of the 863rd passed by them and continued down the hall. Jed waited for him to pass from earshot. "It seems your week just sped up." Sarge stared with a collected look on his hard, strong face. He sighed, keeping eye contact.

"Now don't punch me out over this," he started, referring to an inside joke within the squad. "I didn't call you because you're not going to like where we're going."

"I don't mind the Ascroa Province," Jed scoffed.

"It aint Venus," Sarge said shaking his shaved head. "It's Mars." Jed paused for a moment before looking away from Sarge's hard yet compassionate expression. He paused again, dreading what he knew to already be true.

"Olduvai?"

"Ooh rah." Jed blew air from his mouth loudly, still looking away from his squad leader, he shook his head twice.

"Add one to your roster."

"Jed-"

"You're not going without me," Jed cut in, looking back into Sarge's face. Sarges engulfing gaze swallowed Jed whole with his relentless stare. He paused long and hard.

"Fall in then, Staff Sergeant Grimm." Jed nodded and turned inside the room, joining the rest of the squad whom all found their seats around the wooden table. Sarge stood in the doorway, shaking his head, silently criticizing his decision then sighing before turning into the doorway. "Men you heard it," Sarge barked as he stepped back inside. He turned to the flatscreen against the wall and plugged in a thumb drive. The squad sat around the wooden table attentively listening.

"Yeah, Olduvai, frick," Gould swore with a nervous scoff.

"Stow it Portman," Sarge said, referring to the Marine's field name. A running gag within the squad was Gould's nickname of Portman, the name by which he attempted to pick up on woman at the bar when on the prowl for a one night romp. Of course, only on nights where he was experiencing some real luck, did he get lucky, thus 'Portman' became a joke to the squad. Waiting for the fits of laughter to fade, Sarge stood silently before continuing. "Here's the situation. Approximately 07:00 hours, the UAC's Olduvai Research Center received a distress signal from the BSL."

"What's that?" inquired Johnson.

"It's the UAC's Biological Space Laboratory, a space station in Mars' orbit," Jed cut in. "It's divided into six different sectors which are modified to accommodate the climates and habitats of specific specimen Its where they keep their real interesting crap," he added with a sly sneer at Johnson.

"Reaper, maybe you'd like to lead today's briefing," Sarge barked. Jed looked his way then nodded in respite.

"Sorry, Sir." Sarge lifted a remote to the flatscreen on the wall behind him. On the television, shaky, juvenile footage first of a chittering, snarling bug-like face with large bulbous, red eyes. The pincers of its mouth clamped open and close repeatedly. After a minute of footage of the alien being, the camera messily turned way and focused on a collection of men and women, terrified from being locked behind a glass panel. The surroundings were hard to discern as the lighting seemed to be low with a constant red flash in the atmosphere.

"Approximately, 07:30 hours, the UAC received this ransom demand from some ETFs. The demands call for 1 billion Federation notes. For every two hours of non compliance, they will kill hostages." Sarge paused, standing with his large hands rested on his hips, adding more intimidation to his heroic physique. "Men the fact they called us merely ten minutes after, says the Federation has no intention to pay those ETFs."

"Ooh rah," barked Johnson.

"I like your enthusiasm son," Sarge remarked dryly then continued without missing a beat. "Here's the plan, we'll rally at Olduvai where we'll meet their head of security. There he will brief us on our plan of attack and escort us to the BSL. Any thoughts, questions?" Sarge glanced about the faces of his men. Ben Johnson didn't look confused, but to say he was confident wasn't right either. Klarke Hayes was as solemn as ever, the hardest man to read on the squad. Gould didn't look too impressed, unlike Simone who already had his game face on. Landing his gaze on Jed, GySgt Dawson wasn't sure what to expect.

"The ETFs on the video, were those Utraghans?" Jed inquired.

"Command believes so," Sarge replied simply.

"Utraghans are cold blooded insectoids," Jed explained to the squad. "I'd bet they're all holed up with the hostages in the desert habitat. That's Sector Three I believe." Though Sarge didn't show it, he was pleased;more so he was relieved that Jed was as sharp as always.

"Good bit of intel," Sarge noted with a nod. Anyone else?"

"What's the atmosphere of the station?" Mack asked.

"For the most part, basic air and gravity settings within the station and sector thresholds," Sarge explained. He paused and waited for a sign of further discussion. "Now quick overview, our mission objectives are to infiltrate the BSL, eliminate the hostiles and secure the hostages. We mobilize in fifteen mikes, dismissed." The chairs screeched on the floor as the squad pushed away from the table.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Edwards Joint Operations Base/ Edwards, California/ Earth/ 08:45 hours/ 7-23-2059

Fifteen minutes was plenty of time for Jed to gear up, he'd done it more than plenty of times on an even tighter schedule. Changing from his jeans and t-shirt into his dark, olive green fatigues, he took the excess time to sit down and center himself. It was surprising to him how easily this became just 'another mission.' He had deep connections with the facility established on the Martian surface. Of course that was back when the UAC permitted and accommodated family housing. The Grimm family was among the first. It wasn't long after the accident that the families were shuttled home. The Grimms of course left the facility minus-one. As he sat on the bench in the armory of JOB Edwards, he felt no uneasiness of what lay ahead. It killed him inside; he wanted to feel something, to tell himself his history meant something to him as well as those that were apart of it. But there was nothing different. His hands were steady, his mind clear and focused on the objectives. Simone slid his elbow guard in place as he approached.

"Hey, you good?" he asked sincerely. Jed shrugged slightly as he looked up at his fellow squad-mate.

"Solid," he answered simply. Simone nodded as he backed away then turned to the wall behind him. On metal racks, displayed like a museum showcase, were stubby, cut down bullpup styled Magpul PDR-2 carbine. Simone claimed one, shouldering it with the muzzle aimed to the floor. He looked down the holographic sight, before giving a solid nod of approval and sauntering back to the door. Jed rose to his feet and moved to the table beside the rack. He collected a hand full of the twenty round magazines and stuffed them into the front pouches of his load bearing vest. Collecting the rest of his equipment, he stepped to the rack and picked one of the PDR-2s. He drew one spare magazine from the table and slid it into the stock housing. Sliding back the catch, he let go and it shot forward. Jed outfitted his carbine with a strap and slung it across the front of his vest. Jed finished gathering his gear including a G-79 pistol strapped to his hip holster and a knife to the other hip. After gathering the last few bits of equipment, he followed Simone out. A minute later, the remainder of the squad, including Sarge, was all geared up and ready to mobilize. Stepping out of the building to the outdoor hanger and beating Californian heat, the six of them walked out and across the tarmack of the hanger. Their destination was a 13 hour drive, but by Ottawa, it was much faster. The strictly military issued troop carrier was the fastest in-atmosphere aircraft. Already the turbines of the sleek Ottawa were roaring and kicking up pools of dust on the tarmack on either side. Jed was glad he wore his Oakleys for his eyes, sniggering at Gould's obsessive swearing and batting away the sand from his eyes. Sarge led them onto the craft, all armed with their PDR-2s and looking just as terrifyingly powerful as a Marine of the 863rd could be. The Ottawa looked like the hybrid of an Apache attack helicopter with the troop capacity of a Black Hawk and the structural design of an Osprey. Turbine thrusters replaced the rotors on the flanks of the craft, rested in a vertical position as Jed climbed into the open troop hold and took an end seat on the bench against the back. Simone took the seat across from him and and Sarge the end at the front. The rest piled in, Mack and Ben engaged in conversation. Mack covered his ears and winced then pointed to his ears, telling Kid not to shout into their coms. The turbines whined in a high pitch as the sleek craft lifted from the tarmac. Jed watched the ground shrink. Over the interior coms, the pilot's voice sounded through to the hold.

"You boys better shut them doors, we got to get you to Roswell fast," he declared. Both Jed and Hayes reached out and slid the doors till they shut and encased the squad inside what literally could have been a screaming bullet. Jed felt himself sink further against his seat as the Ottawa gunned forward on its twin flank turbines. Half of the hour long flight passed with Jed seated off to the side, keeping to himself, doing his final checks on his PDR-2 as they soared over the hard, brown terrain of Arizona. Gould sat beside Simone, reaching across to knock his knuckles on Jed's knee guards. Jed's blue gaze snapped up from his carbine to Gould seated diagonally to him.

"So Reaper, how is it you know so much about this crap?" he asked.

"Experience, Portman," Jed answered. "I just do." Gould leaned back in his seat, not necessarily satisfied. Disengaged, Jed returned his gaze to his PDR. Jed didn't flaunt his true self. Among the squad, he was very guarded. Only Dawson was conscience enough to be aware of Jed's intellectual potential. Of course, there were times Hayes seemed to acknowledge it too; though as quiet as Goat was, you'd never know. The fact of the matter was, Jed could easily have gone down a different path other than the Marine Corps. But he hid it well with his gruff approach and dark demeanor, cussing when it seemed appropriate and getting dirty and in the mud when it came time to work. The final half of the hour passed, all the while the Ottawa had soared high above the endless stretch of rough, rocky desert.

"Gentleman, Roswell, New Mexico," greeted the pilot. The Ottawa dropped speed and Hayes and Jed unlatched the side doors, sliding them open to allow the sun's flare of light into the hold. Jed replaced his Oakleys but looked away from the incoming structure on the ground below. This facility was no new thing to all of them. Only a handful of them had before visited an area on Mars' surface, therefore had been through Olduvai for transit. The Ottawa began to bank around the perimeter of the facility comprised of one large building surrounded by a small network of flat, rectangular establishments. The twin thrusters rotated gradually back to their vertical position, descending the craft as it encircled the facility. Over the coms of the Ottawa, the squad heard the pilot conduct the landing procedures with the control tower.

"Marines, lets get one thing clear, our mission calls for discretion. The UAC has requested we keep the situation as under wraps as possible, they don't want panic. So keep it low key," Sarge ordered over the com.

"Sarge, I don't work for the UAC," Gould scoffed.

"Today you do, Portman," Sarge declared. And we go by field names here on out," he ordered. "Ooh rah?"

"Ooh rah!" the squad echoed. In the matter of a minute, the Ottowa was grounded, the suspension rocking as the wheels touched on the tarmac. First off was Sarge, followed by Jed and then the rest of the squad.

"I need you running on 100 percent today," Sarge said as Jed came to his side. "If anythings not working right, I need to know right now." Still looking out ahead of him as they made their way to the center facility,

"You don't have anything to worry about from me," Jed replied solidly. Approaching the metal walls of the facility, Jed suddenly felt a wave of deja vu surge over him. Before his very eyes, the Union Aerospace Corporation painted on the ridged wall was clean for a moment, freshly painted just as the metal walls with a fresh coat of white. Captivated, he then saw the paint dull and weather with age and dirt and the UAC logo fade as he snapped back into the present. Jed was careful to hide his shake of his head to clear his mind. To the left of the logo, was the opening of the hangar like facility. Inside however were no crafts of any kind. Instead was an encircling set up of computers and processors with men and woman walking about wearing light coats of white surrounding what appeared as a shed-sized structure of a dark toned stone. All over the surface of the structure were deep, peculiar carvings. The strange structure was found one hundred and ten years ago in an archeological dig. For years, the area was guarded and secured by the government. It wasn't till just before Jed was born that the Union Aerospace Corporation had been signed on as the heads of research by the Federation and the secrets of the Ark were unlocked. Again the wave of Jed's memories flooded his vision. All around the structure were older computer systems to serve the same purpose. Again his vision cleared and returned to the present. The scientists were used to the 863rd, not a single eye turned their direction as they stepped inside the hanger. Sarge approached a seated woman, fingers at the ready on a key board and eyes on the screen in front of her.

"Transit to Olduvai," he demanded simply with a sturdy tone.

"The Ark is ready for you," she announced. "Go on inside." Sarge nodded before stepping up to the hollowed out entry of the Ark. Another scientist came walking up to the squad.

"Gentleman," he called out. "Have all of you used the Ark before?" Sarge shook his head in response.

"Kid, Duke pay attention here," he called back. Ben and Simone both took a step to the front then stood solid and at attention. The scientist darted his eyes from one to the other.

"Right," he sighed. "Okay well there's really only one thing to know, make sure none of you is in the area of the circular carving in the center. If you do," he paused and lifted his pants leg to reveal a cybernetic prosthetic. "It'll be separated from you," he finished with a dry sense of humor. It seemed to Jed that this scientist was not yet ready to laugh at his own accident.

"Oh crap," Simone exclaimed at the prosthetic. With a roll of his eyes, the scientist lowered his pants leg. "Be sure to stay clear of it until the beam is fully initiated." Wishing the squad luck, he turned away and allowed Sarge to continue. One by one, they all piled inside. The box-like interior was just large enough for them to stand in a circle around the etched circle on the bottom. Jed gazed about inside the Ark at the mysterious carvings in the stone. Glancing up, he spotted the circular carving above them, exactly mirroring the carving on the bottom. Simone standing next to Jed glanced about the ominous carvings with intrigued apprehension. As a Marine of the 863rd, he'd before operated off Earth, both on the lunar colonies and the provinces of Venus but it had been at least nineteen years since he'd stepped foot in the Ark, in Roswell no less and the facility of Olduvai.

"Get ready for it Kid," Gould sneered. "Your about to feel like your bones were torn from your skin then put back in all the wrong places." Ben gave him a sidelong glance, not quite sure whether Gould was feeding him bull.

"Hey Portman, why don't you give it a rest," Hayes said with narrowed eyes. If anyone contended the most on the squad, it was Klarke Hayes and Tim Gould. Hayes didn't say much, but when he did it was usually to reprimand the loudmouth Marine. A voice suddenly sounded through the hanger.

"Ark activated. Stabilization in T-minus ten, nine, eight..." As the female, computerized voice counted, the carvings around them started to suddenly glow bright white. The rumble of a deep stone came from around the fronts of their boots and above their heads as the circular carvings rotated. First as thin as a fishing line, a blinding light of energy formed, reaching from the top to the bottom of the Ark. "...three, two, one, zero." The strand had grown to a full, thick column that filled the entire area of the circular carvings. "Ark stabilized," the voice announced. First to step in was Sarge, taking a single stride unfazed into the glowing pillar of energy. As his body completely submerged into the pillar of glowing light, Hayes stepped inside as well followed by Simone and Gould. Jed took one deep breath, closed his eyes then stepped inside.

An extreme force of turbulence shook their bodies violently. Not a single one of them dared to open their eyes, no one traveling the Ark ever did. No one was quite sure how it worked, what powered the ancient relic buried in the sands of Roswell, New Mexico. It was only by mere accident it was ever reopened, the man that did it was never seen again. As quickly as the sensation hit, it went away. Jed reemerged, blurry eyed and queasy. Seconds later, Ben collapsed to the floor beside him, he pushed onto his knees quickly before releasing the raw, chunky contents of his stomach. Jed crinkled his nose and winced from the sharp aroma of vomit as it splattered to the floor. Jed himself had to bend over with his hands on his knees and wait for the dizziness to subside.

"Ugh, now that aint right," Simone said weakly as he sidled up to him. In the front of the squad, Sarge just stood solid before them, merely shaking his head clear, showing no sign of weakness.

"Kid?" he called out. Ben rose to his feet, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"I'm good, Sarge." Standing up straight with his head clear, Jed recognized the room they'd emerged to. The light was gone from the matching circular carvings on the floor and ceiling, leaving them in a sister chamber to the Ark back on Earth. With a hiss of steam, and a metal clanging, the doors to slid open in front of them. Unlike the small chamber, the doors were modern, made of metal and emblazoned with the UAC logo on the center crack. Sarge stepped through first, followed by the recovered squad. As Jed stepped inside through the doorway, his eyes carried over the rounded, half-circled room. Not much had changed in the Atrium of the Olduvai Research Center, except it was far less constricted with the traffic of families being teleported off planet, from last he saw it. In the center of the high-ceiling chamber was an ovular reception desk. Two UAC personnel always manned the desk, overlooking the access of each room by their terminal. Behind the desk, two archways led into the hallway further into the facility. Similar archways flanked the sides of the chamber, allowing access to specific hallways. Standing around the reception desk talking with the two receptionists were two other men. Off in the background, more people made their way from hallway to a door which opened at their approach elsewhere in the Atrium. The two near the reception desk differed greatly at first appearance. One was rather short, wearing a white lab coat with his nervous profile to the Marines. Sweat both from the heated Martian climate and anxiety glistened on his bare, crinkled forehead. His hairline had recended substantially, nearly balding him on his scalp. The other held a dignified air about him. He too seemed aged but managed to retain his physique. Standing up perfectly straight, opposite the slouched scientist across from him. He wore a set of light gray fatigues with pride and the disciple of a serviceman. The cuffs of his pants were tucked into his boot and his shirt tucked into his pants, secured in place by a shining, silver buckle. Strapped to his hip was a hard-case holster, housing a high-powered DP-4 pistol. Even just his profile was stern with narrowed eyes and the hardened weathered marks of experience creasing around his high brow and around his mouth.

"I'll be damned," Sarge muttered under his voice. The scientist then turned their way, followed by the uniformed man with long, strong strides.

"Sergeant, Dr. Hughe Carmack, I'm head of scientific research here on Olduvai," he said with with nervous haste.

"Dr," Sarge replied simply with a single nod.

"This here is Adam Malkovich, our Chief of Security," Carmack said with an indication to the man standing taut at his side. "I'm leaving you under his charge." Carmack took a step closer to them, with a buggy look in his eyes. "I did make it clear to the Federation I want this handled quietly," he said in a hushed tone.

"Yes Sir, understood," Sarge assured him. With a quick, apprehensive glance to the rest of the squad, Carmack then turned right and headed down to the corridor. Adam, looked Sarge over from head to toe as he took a step closer.

"Sergeant," he said with a crisp voice. Jed suddenly saw a grin spread on just one side of Sarge's face with a fond look.

"Malkovich," he greeted. "You may or may not remember, I served under you in the 07th." Adam made no change in his stern-faced, blank expression.

"Is that right. There are quite a few 'Sarges' in the Corps," he said snidely. "What's your name Son?"

"I'm sorry sir, SOP, I can't tell you," Sarge said with a solid military manner.

"Well then I don't know who you are. We're wasting time follow me." Jed's eyes grew in shock. He'd known GySgt Dawson and had been under his command since he joined the 863rd, four years into his enlistment. Never once did anyone dare to slap Sarge down like that, nor did he ever allow it. The one time Gould dared to snap at him, was what gave him the crooked, lumpy form of his nose. However Sarge did nothing, he just took it and moved on following as Malkovich led them away to the left side corridors, the Security Wing.

"Did you see that, Reaps?" Simone exclaimed as he met his side. Jed shook his head.

"Sure did," Jed replied dryly. Sarge had his reasons. Jed couldn't quite shake the feeling there was more to the Chief of Security than what met the eye.

"I'll escort you to our Security hub," Adam said as he led the way with the squad close behind. Eyes all around the Atrium and hallways watched them with bewilderment, noting their PDR-2s and full tactical equipment. One such pair belonged to a man wearing a set of fatigues much like Adam's. A open faced helmet was adorned on his head with a shotgun cradled in his hands. "My men are all securing the facility, we're on high alert at the moment," Adam announced to the squad.

"What kind of security detail do you have here Chief?" Hayes inquired.

"At least fifty strong, all retired servicemen," Adam answered as he approached the middle of the three doors in the short corridor.

"Including yourself apparently," Jed offered subjectively.

"Marine Corps, sixteen years," Adam answered without diverting his attention to the panel on the wall. He pressed his palm against the scanner beside the frame. A thin strip of light scrolled up from his wrist to the tip of his fingers. On the display above the scanner, Adam's name and title appeared and the red light on the panel blinked to green. The door slid into the wall and he and the squad stepped inside. The circular room was low lighted, sparsely illuminated by the glow of displays and the few interior lights. In the center, much like Atrium, was a holo-table with a glowing green surface. Encircling the room was a wide ring of screens, displaying the visual feeds from the cameras all over the facility. Only two others were inside, wearing the same gray uniform of the security personnel. Adam made his way to the center holo-table and pressed a control along the edge. Suddenly a holographic display emerged from the green aura of the table. A large cone-shaped structure rotated slowly as it hovered over the table. A thick ring rounded the top of the structure, held in place by supports that attached to the cone. Jed recognized it immediately as the Biological Space Laboratory of the UAC, the sister research platform to Olduvai. "Now, I know you know the situation at hand here, but here's the specifics," Adam started gruffly. Around 07:00 hours, a ship carrying what we estimate to be fifteen Pirates approached the BSL station. They requested medical attention."

"And like idiots, they welcomed them on board," Gould blurted snidely.

"Shut it, Portman," Sarge barked. Adam threw a sharp glare in the Marine's direction.

"Our scientists don't deny medical treatment to anyone or anything." Gould raised his hands in mock surrender. Adam turned back to the display then continued. "A half hour later, we received the ransom demands. They've said they will kill hostages every two hours so our casualty rate is inconclusive."

"In our briefing we were informed you would provide us with a plan," Sarge said.

"My job is to escort you to the station then coordinate you through it. This is the station," he said indicating the display. With a pointed finger, he dropped his hand to the very bottom where the blunt cone came to a dull point. "Here is our entry. This here is an exhaust shaft that connects to maintenance tunnels which enables complete access to the station without the use of the elevators. We have to assume the Pirates have control over the hangers, the elevators and the operations deck. Plus the station is quite possibly on lockdown, so you'll have to get creative."

"We can handle it," Sarge insisted with a nod then looked to the squad's technical specialist. "Mack?" Mack looked up from the display to his squad leader, pursing his mouth in thought.

"As long as we're operating within the bounds of Federation coding, I got it covered," he answered.

"Good," Adam said. "Once you do get in, send me a link up of the lockdown, breach codes so I can open doors for you along the way."

"Any idea where the ETFs are holding the hostages?" Haye's inquired, eyes still focused sharply on the display.

"We have reason to believe, here in Sector Three," Adam answered with a point of his finger to a distinct point along the side of the cone.

"Check it out Reaper, you were right," Simone whispered into Jed's ear. Only giving him a sideways glance, he then refocused on the briefing.

"I've charted out your course already as shown here." With another press of the buttons on the edge panel, the display of the station became a cross section, providing a crude model to the inner workings of the facilities. Beneath the exterior of the cone, Six separate sections ringed a central spine that extended above and below the bulk of the facility. Branching out from section to section was a network of tunnels that also extended from one of the sections to the central spine.

"Damn, I'm lost already," Ben remarked as he scanned the complex network of tunnels. Ignoring the Kid, Adam continued.

"In order to reach Sector Three, you'll have to use the maintenance tunnels between Sectors Two then One." With his finger, he traced a path from the foot of the station and up the central spine, depicting the reactor silo of the facility, to a lone tunnel that led to Sector Two. He then continued on, tracing out the rest of their route. "The whole time, I will be on station, providing direction through the tunnels and security access.

"Right, here's the plan then," Sarge cut in. "We enter through the maintenance tunnel to the reactor silo. There we go in quiet, sneak through to the tunnels to the second sector. It's imperative we don't make our presence known till after we secure the hostages in Sector Three. After that, Fireteam Charlie will remain with the hostages while Fireteam Bravo moves to secure the Operations Deck. Fireteam Alpha," he paused, repressing a very discrete grin. "We're the hunters, killing every Extra Terrestrial Effer on station starting with the hanger. Bravo will rendezvous with Alpha after having secured their objective, ooh rah?"

"Ooh rah," the squad replied. Jed always thought the Marine call-out was corny, but did it anyway; partly for the sole purpose of fitting in with the rest of them. Adam however, seemed less pleased than he did.

"Sergeant," he said sharply. "I want to get something clear. I don't want any casualties or unnecessary damage to UAC property, so you cowboys check your damn targets," he said with gruff sternness. More and more, Jed wondered what his story was. He obviously had one; showing no sign of appreciation for their arrival. Not that Jed cared, he didn't need anyone to compliment him, but for a very personal reason, he held a feeling of resentment for Chief of Security, Adam Malkovich.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Mars orbit/ 10:23 hours/ 7-23-2059

Like a flaming bullet against the pressurized friction of the red planet's atmosphere, the rather large dropship arced in the black space. Flying fairly close to the atmosphere, it soared around the planet, circling around to the approximate location in orbit of their destination. The troop transport cargo hold had no view ports to the space that surrounded the Marines of the 863rd kept inside. All they had to alert them of their arrival to the BSL was the sudden orange flashing light accompanied by the intercom of the pilot and Adam who served as co-pilot.

"ETA to BSL is one mike," Adam's gruff, dry voice announced.

"Men, strap in," Sarge ordered. Gould, Simone and Jed all did as instructed, securing the harnesses over their shoulders like a strap to a backpack. Looking across the way from him, Jed saw Hayes' hand return from having dropped something down the high, tight collar of his olive fatigues. Jed had been on enough ops with Goat to have witnessed plenty of times the seasoned Marine pressing the cross to his lips and bowing his head with his eyes closed. Each member of the squad had their mission preparation ritual. Gould had an irritating habit of cracking his knuckles while Simone liked to hum to himself. The Kid, Ben, seemed to tap his foot excessively; whether by nerves or just an unconscious urge. Mack of all things, chewed gum, blowing a bubble every minute or so. Sarge had no traceable habit as he usually tried to review the mission with his men. As the light blinked, everyone readied themselves, double checking their weapons and gear for a fourth and final time. As Mack swallowed his gum noisily, he peered down the holographic sight, checking to find the red dot still functioning and in place. As the ship inched closer and closer to the foot of the station, it executed a sharp swerving maneuver, bringing the underside of the hull in a ninety degree angle. The vacuum latching function secured a direct passage that swallowed the hatch of the maintenance shaft. The engines of the dropship died as the ship was secured to the outer shell of the station's hull. Held in place by the harness of his seat, Jed sat sideways and waited to hear the dull clunk from the floor to unfasten the latch. Sarge was first out of his seat, holding fast to the edge of the bench and swinging his body upright before dropping to the side of the hold, now in the ship's dock orientation was the floor. Once the rest of the squad had dropped from their seats and stood with their focus on their commander, Sarge keyed his comlink.

"Squad, commo check," he barked.

"Goat, checking in."

"Mack, checking in."

"Reaper, checking in."

"Duke, checking in."

"Kid, checking in."

"This is Portman,

"Sarge, loud and clear.

"Squad, this is Malkovich, reading you loud and clear," Adam called over the squad's comlink. Jed reached to the ear piece fitted in place, and adjusted the volume; not only did he not want Malkovich's voice in his head, he didn't want to be deafened by it. "I'll be your Advisor through the station, I have audio and visual access via your PDR-2's kill-cams."

"Glad to hear it," Sarge replied. "Squad, time to move."

"Squad, be advised," Adam called over their coms. "That exhaust vent is zero-g."

"Terrific," Jed groaned with a roll of his eyes.

"What's the matter Reaps," Mack asked with a smirk. Without a word, Jed shot the marine a sharp, explanatory stare. Mack burst in laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "Man, you're in the wrong part of the Corps."

"Stow it, both of you," Sarge said. "Just remember your training, stay in formation and check your damn lines of fire." Mack immediately moved to the sealed hatch on the deck floor, repositioned on the wall. Jed watched as he set to work, lifting the handle upright then rotating the seal to the hatch; all the while anxious about what lied behind it. As he lifted the hatch open, a pressurized hiss pierced the air. Jed was no fan of zero-g operations, effectively faking his way through most of the exercises. Beneath the metal floor hatch was another just large enough to accommodate the entry of one man. In the center of the squared hatch was a valve wheel, surrounded by closed shutters. Gould eyed the hatch nervously.

"Advisor, you said this is an exhaust vent?"

"Affirmative. You have a window of four mikes to send me those codes so I can disengage the flush."

"The what?" Gould inquired. Mack gripped the valve wheel, and turned it hard. The metal screeched with lack of use. All the while, Jed, Gould and Sarge held their PDR-2s at the ready for whatever was behind the hatch. After hearing the clang of the opened latch, Mack backed away, shaking his gloved hands.

"Crap that's cold." he exclaimed. With a nod of approval from Sarge, he lifted the hatch open. The inside appeared like no more than a narrow, dark, metal tunnel. Sarge peered down in it's metallic depths then turned to Hayes.

"Goat, take point, squad, form up." Hayes nodded before shouldering his PDR-2, leveled down range as he took his first step over the entry way and into the tunnel. He squeezed through, forced to crouch low and stalk slowly with his long legs bent all the while. The torch fastened beside his PDR-2 on the side rail provided a white glow for him to navigate. Next through was Mack, followed by Jed then Ben with Sarge, Gould and Simone taking up the rear. Nearly two yards into the tunnel, they left the bounds of the dropship's artifical gravity. The air seemed to thin around them and Jed felt his feet begin to lift from the metal floor of the tunnel. Jed wasn't quite at the verge of panic just yet but he felt his stomach lift within his body as if it too were suspended independent of the rest of him. The first minute passed of them continuously shuffling up the shaft. Along the way, the tunnel would suddenly turn a short climb up easily within their reach like a switchback up a hill, taking them deeper into the station. The air was cold from the constant exposure to the icy vacuum of space. The tips of their fingers were numbed from exposure of their tipless gloves. Ben, being the smallest of the rather burly assembly of men within the squad, found the extra room to be a hindrance as it allowed his center of gravity to shift easier in his crouched position; leaning forward too far would send him in a somersault. But as a trained 'Space Marine,' he kept under control.

"Boss, we're coming to a junction," Hayes reported as he approached a circular entry up ahead, he peered through into an large open chamber like the inside of a silo. The darkness of the confined chamber gave no visual of the floor or ceiling. Glancing around he found similar ports along the smooth, rounded walls of the silo, leading away into other unknown channels of tunnels. Looking across the darkened chasm below, Hayes spotted another access hatch just a foot higher up on the wall. "Goat, give me visual," Adam requested over their com. Hayes backed into the tunnel and leveled his PDR-2 across the chasm, scanning slowly across the dark chamber. "Goat do you see that entry hatch, that's your route," Adam instructed. "You need to get Mack up there to retrieve the codes and open that hatch.

"Copy that. Mack, you're up," Sarge called.

"Gotta love the easy crap," Mack grumbled quietly as he pressed low against the floor of the tunnel to slide past Hayes. With some difficulty, he finally reached the front and glanced across at the hatch with his own eyes. "Okay," he sighed with thought. "Goat, Reaper, give me light on the hatch," he said as he lowered his own PDR-2 and slung it across his chest. Positioning himself on the edge of the tunnel, he squat low and gripped the sides tightly, eyes focused on the handle bars that surrounded the edge of the hatch. Mack then pushed off, relying heavily on the lack of gravity to carry him across the chasm. He sailed over to the other side, reaching up and grasping the long handle bar below the hatch. Hitting against the wall, Mack secured himself with extreme ease in the weightless chamber, pulling himself up in front of the hatch. Hovering with only his grip on the bar to keep him from drifting away, he shifted his grip to the side bar, allowing access to the PDA he exclusively wore on the forearm of his uniform. Mack then drew interface chord from end of the device and plugged it into the port on the side of the hatch's security console. His PDA immediately glowed green with a scroll of coding on the screen. As he set to work isolating the lockdown code to the hatch, Jed and Hayes trained their torches on Mack, keeping their index fingers free from the trigger guard. Sarge looked to his watch on his wrist before keying his com.

"Advisor, what's our ETA on the Reactor Silo," Sarge inquired.

"From that entry hatch you're two mikes out at your current pace. Be advised, the next round of casualties is within the next twenty mikes. You'll make it to Sector 3 at your pace."

"That's assuming they really are in Sector 3," Gould cut in. "All it is is Reaper's theory."

"And it's a damn good one," Sarge barked at him in a hushed, gruff tone over their coms.

"I'm wide open to any guess of your own, Portman," Jed remarked dryly over the com.

"Are you really telling me that's the only possibility?" Gould snapped at Sarge ahead of him. Sarge stayed silent, glancing over his shoulder at Gould behind him giving him a rude, inquisitive look.

"Advisor, is there any other possible location?"

"Hold on a moment," Adam said into the com. From his copilot's seat back on the docked dropship, he scanned the schematic readout on his console. "Only other locations that come to mind are the Reactor Silo itself and Sector 1."

"Noted," Sarge replied over the coms. "We'll be sure to clear out those locations on our way. With a metallic clang that thundered in the metal chamber, the electronic seal on the entry hatch opened. The doors parted, sliding aside to allow Mack inside to an even more open passage.

"Got it Sarge," he reported through the com. "Advisor, I've isolated the lockdown codes and am sending them your way now." After a moment, Adam replied.

"Good work Mack," he said dryly.

"Alright Squad," Sarge said. "move up." First to inch their way to the edge was Hayes. He reslung his PDR-2 and did just as Mack, shoving off and floating easily to the open hatch. Grasping the bars, he pulled himself into the passage. Jed was next, nerves beginning to stir as he unwittingly glanced down to the chasm below. Snapping his attention back up, he pushed off and sailed across to the entry port. With both arms, he reached out for the bars. His first hand made contact, but slipped away slightly. In a controlled burst of panic, he lashed out with the other hand and clasped tightly on the bottom bar. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he hung there weightlessly. Taking a soothing breath he eased his way through the entry and into the wider, taller passage. With the entire squad across and in the same formation, they pressed on in a staggered single file formation. The passage allowed them to stand on their feet but forced them to hunch forward and keep low. Advancing forward they finally felt the influence of the station's artificial gravity keep their feet planted firmly on the metal floor of the maintenance passage. The tunnel wasn't nearly as dark as the exhaust shaft. In a six foot interval, an interior light shined from the top. Along their way, the squad deactivated the torches on their PDR-2s and pressed on with only the lights of the tunnel to guide them. After going at a gradual incline and taking a hand full of switchbacks, they came to a sudden dead end. Sarge radioed in to Adam for confirmation on their direction, which Adam verified. The passage suddenly stopped. Ten feet up the dead end, their route continued, a narrow shaft at the top that led into a darkened passage. Shining his torch up at the passage, Hayes then slung his PDR-2.

"I got this, Boss. He made his way up against the dead end, using the full length of his long arm span to plant his hands firmly against the front and back walls. Using his arms as a stable hold, he brought his legs a foot off the floor. Moving at a steady, solid pace, Hayes shimmied up the shaft. Jed and Mack provided light with their PDR-2s as he made his way to the top.

"Don't slip, Goat," Gould remarked snidely over the com.

"Eff you, Portman." Goat grunted as he neared the top. Reaching the narrow passage at the top, he gripped the edge then let his legs go. Quickly he pulled himself up into shaft like a snake through a tunnel.

"Alright," Sarge said. "One at a time, lets move." Ben made his way to the front and knelt against the wall. First up was Mack, using the boost provided by Ben to reach Hayes' awaiting hand. The two grasped wrists and Hayes pulled him up into the passage. One by one each of them climbed to the top. Last up was Sarge. Grunting a brief apology over his massive weight, Sarge used the boost to grasp Hayes' arm. With all but one of the squad through the passage, Sarge dropped onto his stomach and reached over the edge. Mack shined down a light for Ben to see Sarge's awaiting grasp.

"Let's go Kid, jump." After only slight hesitation, Ben gave himself a slight running start then reached the wall, taking one vertical step for that extra boost to the top. Sarge pulled him up with ease. With the Squad back in formation, they kept moving, kicking up their pace through the maintenance tunnel. The tunnel then leveled out and continued with sudden turns in both directions. The tunnels were far wider and allowed them all to stand completely straight with another two feet of clearance. Along the walls, pipes and gauges ran down the span of darkness, sparsely illuminated by few interior lights. The air was far warmer and loud with a series of mechanical clangs, overpowered with the constant thrum of the reactor above them.

"Sarge, your coming up on your entrance," Adam reported. "There's a ladder coming up on your right." At the head of the formation, Sarge scanned the right side wall of the tunnel, stopping six paces down.

"I see it, Advisor." He looked up the rungs to the grate above. At his side, Jed too looked up the ladder with his PDR-2 tracing his gaze. Through the metal grate above, a warm pulsating light glowed.

"I got it," Jed said as he slung his PDR-2. Sarge gave him a quick glance before backing off; knowing debate would be useless. Quickly, Jed grasped the rungs and climbed up to the metal grate ahead. Half way up the ladder, he reached to the hard-case holster on his thigh and drew his G-79 handgun. Once at the top, he carefully pushed the grate up, which lifted with ease and peered into the vast chamber. As he scanned the area with his handgun, the orange glow of the reactor colored his face. The Reactor Silo of the station was a mechanical chamber with metal walls surrounding the vital systems of the station. At the heart of it all was of course the towering spire of the reactor itself. Pulsating as a ball of pure energy behind the protection of a containment field was the emission that hovered in between the two halves of the reactor. Climbing up the silo were numerous stairs and platforms for complete maintenance access for the station. Carefully, Jed let the hinged grate fold open and he swiftly climbed all the way out of the tunnels, keeping low and alert; constantly checking and rechecking his surroundings. "We're clear," he said over the com. Moving behind the opening he stowed his G-79 and shouldered his PDR-2. One by one, the squad ascended the ladder then moved off to the right against the closest wall for concealment. As Gould, Ben and Hayes all scanned the floor around them, Sarge, Jed, Mack and Simone's carbines kept focus on the platforms and catwalks above. Through the metal grates of a catwalk four levels up, a sudden motion caught Simone's eye.

"Sarge, I got movement on the catwalks," he reported in a hushed tone.

"Squad, freeze," Sarge ordered. Jed, still manning the open floor grate, did as instructed. Incidentally, his holographic sight was trained right on the same catwalk.

"I have visual, just give the word, Sarge," he said in a low and focused tone.

"Negative, no-go," Sarge ordered. "Duke, are we clear?" Simone checked his sights again to confirm. Through the grates, the shadow of motion moved away from them.

"Clear."

"Duke, take point. Reaper, cover the rear."

"Ooh rah," Jed mumbled as he darted to join the squad, keeping his PDR-2 leveled as he scanned the area behind them. At a steady hustle, Simone led the formation up the set of stairs which clanged as each of their boots made contact. No one worried about the noise as it was all drowned out by the reactor. At the top of the stairs, a catwalk served as a junction for more platforms and staircases. Adam led them by their coms and the camera feed of their PDR-2s up another set of stairs. Halfway up, Sarge gave a hand signal.

"Hold here," he whispered. Sarge placed a hand on Simone's shoulder in front of him. "Duke, nice and quiet," he said as he gave a single squeeze on his shoulder. Simone crept up the stair, slinging his PDR-2 and reaching to his knife sheathed on his thigh. He hid behind a column of pipes bundled together, providing sufficient cover for the approaching Marine. The figure approached, clawed feet rapping on the metal grate of the catwalk. Indistinct chittering emitted from the pincer like mandibles of the figure's face. The clanging of foot falls paused for a moment and Simone held his breath. The clanging then proceeded. After counting two seconds, Simone emerged low from his cover and sneaked behind the hunched figure; the exterior, ribbed shell shined by the glow of the reactor. Simone moved fast, grasping the face of the alien with one hand and stabbing his blade into it's bulbous eye. High pitched, squealing chitters erupted from the pirate's pincer-like mandibles and the alien's cold, dark purple blood oozed over the Marine's fingers. Soon the sporadic flailing of the alien's limbs settled and it went limp. Slowly, Simone lowered the alien's body to the metal grate.

"AMF neutralized, all clear," Simone grunted over the com. Sarge led the squad up the stairs, nodding towards Simone as he continued on.

"Nice work, Duke." The squad continued on. Their path up the network of stairs and catwalks carried them to the top of the silo, close to rear of the area. Adam keyed his mic as they reached the top of the fifth to last landing.

"Squad there's a green stairway to your right which leads to a platform along the wall. Take those stairs."

"Roger that," Sarge replied, unfazed as he trudged forward. Turning sharply right, he led the train of Marines up the paint, chipped staircase. Reaching the top, they came to a relatively wide platform that spanned all the way down to the far wall. Up ahead, Reaper spotted a light placed a little ways up the wall, shining orange from the teal tinged, metal walls.

"Dead ahead is a hatch," Adam said as they made their down the platform.

"Copy that, Advisor, I see it." Sarge stopped at the end of the platform before the squared hatch in front. The hatch itself was silver with a forest-green border. Stenciled in the center was a two. Beside it was a simple security keypad.

"I'm accessing the code now," Adam said through the coms. Suddenly the keypad flashed then glowed with a green display. The square doors split down the middle, revealing the tunnel inside. The corridor was short and the teal tinged walls were lit by the interior lights and warmed by the wave of heat emitting from the reactor behind them in the silo. The squad moved in formation to the end of the corridor where a matching hatchway was set in the wall.

"Squad, hold," Sarge ordered. "Advisor any sign of activity behind this door?"

"I have no way of telling," Adam answered. "Be advised, lifeforms are all over the station, its impossible to tell which are hostile. Door's opening now." Just as before, the display on the keypad turned green and the hatch split open.

"Duke, take point," Sarge ordered. Simone stepped to the side of the entry and Sarge took place opposite. First to enter, Simone, snapped his PDR-2 up against his shoulder, leveled and primed. As he scanned the area, Sarge barged in; his own PDR-2 ready. The Marines stood on a suspended platform in the rear of the maintenance access room. On the sides of the balcony two metal ladders stretched to the floor. Both Marines moved up against the metal railing of the balcony shining their torches over the edge, assessing the floor below. "All clear," Sarge called out. From the open entry behind them, the remaining five of the squad poured onto the platform. Over the coms, Adam affirmed Sarge of their route. The squad climbed down the ladders then continued down to the end of the room to the door. Adam unlocked the door and the squad was allowed into a well lit hallway. The walls were greened by a thin layer of vegetated residue and what appeared to be moss. Gould winced as his beady eyes darted looked about, carbine slightly leveled and aimed at the floor.

"Janitors must be on strike," he remarked.

"Ooh rah to that, Portman," Simone replied. The squad continued through two more doors before coming to a metal staircase descending a floor. Boots clanging as they made their way down, the Marines observed the habitat room, taking in the sight of various peculiar beings and creatures that were caged in large transparent pens. Simone glanced at one such creature, a slug like being topped with sharp needles along its spine. The Zoro crept sluggishly up the pane of the containment pen leaving a slimy trail in its wake. The Marine shook his head clear, disgusted as he continued to follow his squad commander. The large rounded area was tall, spanning up six open levels. Off to the right, Adam directed them to a transparent lift tube for access to each level. The squad piled into the lift which carried them up the tube. They watched as each level passed them by. Jed curiously glanced about at each level, spotting more inhabited containment pens and the occasional glow of a monitor's display.

"What kind of research you guys do here in Sector Two?" he asked over the coms. Adam took only a brief second to realize he was being addressed before answering.

"Sector Two, TRO, stands for tropics. Specimen found in humid, heavily vegetated habitats."

"Glad I asked," Jed remarked under his breath. The lift eased to a stop once at the top level. The squad left the tube and made their way along the balcony to the exit off against the wall. As they approached the doors, they parted allowing the squad into a short corridor, brightly lit corridor. The walls were clean and free of any vegetation, actually appearing like the pristine, sanitized hallway of a space station.

"Squad your coming up on the sector lobby. Heightened chance of pirate activity," he advised.

"Roger that," Sarge replied. Jed tightened his grip on his carbineand stepped through the open hatch only to ease back again after a quick scan of the lobby.

"Where the hell are these things?" he muttered.

"They're all hiding from you, Reaps," Simone answered with a suppressed chuckle.

"Stow it you two," Hayes snapped with annoyance as he continued to search the open area around them. Just as the hallway behind them, the sector lobby seemed untouched. They continued on through to another hatch across the area located below the stairway leading to the main elevators. The small room was another maintenance access. Stenciled on the hatch in the wall was the number one. As curious as Jed was to where their enemies were all hiding, he was well aware that with sectors one and three ahead of them, the operation had only just begun.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Union Aerospace Corporation Biological Space Laboratory/ Mars orbit/ 10:35 hours/ 7-23-2059

Sector One seemed just as unoccupied as Sector Two. The route was far shorter than their way through Sector Two, taking them directly to the sector lobby, straight to the maintenance access for Sector Three. All piled inside of the small access room, the squad formed together, preparing to enter the hatch.

"Access hatch is opening now," Adam said over the coms. The latch of the lock made a deep clicking noise. The doors parted, sliding into the walls and allowing the squad a view into the maintenance tunnel.

"Portman, take lead," Sarge ordered. With a nod, Gould approached the entry then stepped inside, snapping his carbine left and right as he checked the path then lowered his aim.

"It's good," he muttered into the com. Jed and Hayes were next inside, carbines readied as they stepped lively and pressed forward in the poorly lit passage. Boots clanging as the squad advanced cautiously the first three in the formation turned a corner. The beams of their torches shined on a tall, insectoid, mandibles clamping closed and opening as a series of shrieking chitters echoed through the metal tunnel. Burning red arthropod eyes glowed in the dark of the tunnel. Razor like pincers struck out at the marines. Startled for merely a split second, Gould and Simone recovered, firing off single shots center mass of their target. Each of their shots rang loud in the metal tunnel, their muzzle flashes filling it completely with light. The thick exoskeleton caused for the bullets to simply crumple on impact and clatter to the metal grate of the tunnel floor. Jed stepped back rapidly to avoid a slice from the pirate's pincers then recovered, aiming high and pulling the trigger. Within two shots, blood spurt from the entry wound in the alien's eye, speckling the foremost marines. With another pair of clangs, the pirate slunk to the floor.

"Head shots, boys," Jed grumbled as he pressed forward. "Nice call there, Portman," he added gruffly.

"Eff you, he was around the damn corner," Gould snarled.

"Both of you, shut the frick up," Adam growled over the coms. "That was a lot of noise you boys just made."

"He's right, we're blown," Sarge said as the squad continued forward; turning another corner and providing a straight shot to the entrance hatch for Sector Three. "Squad, double time. We're going in hot." The squad kicked up their pace to a rapid trot through the tunnel. Upon their approach the door parted. With hardly any pause, Gould, Jed and Simone poured inside. The maintenance access room was small with the entry hatch opposite them. There was no more waiting, they were compromised. Opening the hatch they stepped into an equally dark area. The atmosphere was extremely humid, and steam whistled and spit in gusts from the seals of metal pipes that spanned the walls, all joined together by a block of machinery at the far side.

"Where's our door?" Simone inquired.

"Check your footing," Adam replied dryly. All eyes fell to the floor where among the metal grating, was a smooth block of mechanics. "I have no access to that hatch," Adam said. Mack approached a terminal on the wall beside the hatch and reconnected his interface cable. On the screen of his wrist bound PDA, the display glowed green as he hacked into the system. Within a short moment, the hatch clanged open slowly descended on its hinge. Once completely open, the rungs of a ladder folded out.

"I got point," Jed grunted as he slung his PDR-2. Climbing down the ladder, he reached the bottom which was three feet short from the floor. He dropped down and crouched, snapping his carbine up and scanning the dark insides with his mounted torch, he sighed gruffly. All of Sector Three was dark, from a tampering of the power flow. Luckily, all the security doors were still functional and available for Adam to access.

"Clear, another damn maintenance tunnel," he grunted. His eyes suddenly snapped to a spot further down the tunnel. "Hold for a sec," he muttered into his com. Slowly with his PDR-2 back in his hands, he crept to the spot he had shifted his attention to, finding it was the edge of a grate. Quickly he turned off his torch and crept closer and closer till he was at the edge. The dark of the room had only the slight illumination of screens and monitors. Off in the corner, he noticed a particular glowing display opposite another Both displays flashed in perfect sync; a reflection. Jed's curiosity was peaked. He squinted slightly to peer through the darkness. A silhouette suddenly flashed past a display. Straining to hear, he thought he could determine the sounds of heavy breathing and even sobbing. Jed's eyes widened with surprise then he backed away slowly from the grate.

"Bingo, they're below us," he whispered into the com.

"Reaper, repeat," Sarge said in a low tone.

"They're below us." Quickly but quietly, the squad regrouped merely feet from the edge of the grate. Hayes and Ben were first to join Jed. Both crept to the edge for their own look.

"Just give the word, Boss," Hayes muttered under his breath.

"Hold that, Goat," Adam barked through the com. "You boys barge in there like that and you'll get someone down there killed."

"You're the one that says we're on a schedule," Gould hissed sharply.

"What do you suggest?" Sarge inquired.

"Half of you go in from the top, the other half, the main door."

"Roger," Sarge replied. "Goat, Kid, Reaper, Duke, take Advisor's second route move fast we're running low on time." With a solid nod, Hayes started down the lengthy hall away from the grate to the door at the far end. Adam opened the door upon their approach. Hayes burst through to find another pirate. The alien turned sharply around at the sound of the marines' entry. The four poured in, only Hayes making the killing shot on the pirate. Squealing and bleeding, the insectoid dropped with a clang on the metal floors in the dark. The four continued, descending a short flight of stairs then turning sharply around to the next door. Continuing through, they came to a suspended platform with another staircase leading to a baclony to the third floor entry of the sector lobby. Across the open area on a platform opposite connected by a catwalk were two more pirates. The two aliens opened their pincers, ejecting an acidic spray that fired like a laser pointer. Jed and Ben opened fire, taking four shots each to successfully kill the hostiles. Hayes moved forward to the door with Duke, Jed and Ben following in formation. The door opened and they poured inside, continuing down the catwalk to the entry ahead. Adam prepared their way, opening hatches at their approach. In a continuous advance forward, their carbines were leveled, taking out the pirate inside the dark hallway with ease. Finally they reached the door of their location. The marines slowed their pace, approaching the door ready for what lied behind it.

"In position," Hayes muttered, taking the right side of the door and Jed taking the left. Simone doubled up with Jed, his cheek rested against the stock of his carbine as he stared down the sights.

"On my mark," Sarge whispered in their coms. "Three, two, one, go." Adam opened the door. Further down the room, the metal grate for the air vent crashed to the ground with a noisy clatter.

"Grenade out," Hayes announced coolly over the com. From a pouch on his vest, he tossed a palm sized cylindrical device inside the darkness of the room. From the air vent above, another dropped to the floor. The marines waited for the concussive boom and the flash of light filling the entire room before making their move. One by one with trained precision, the squad entered the room from both entries. Disoriented chitters filled the room, accompanied by wild sprays of their acidic discharge. As Hayes opened fire on one of the pirates, he suddenly stepped back against the wall with a hard grunt. The bicep of his uniform was seared, sizzling as his skin bubbled and blistered. Jed fired on another, dodging a sweep from a set of razor, sharp pincers. Recovering, he readjusted his aim and burned two rounds into the alien's cranium, spurting more, dark, oozing blood. All around the room, precise single shots were accompanied by muzzle flashes that lit the darkness with pops of light beside the beams of their torches. Sarge found himself pitted in one on one combat off to the left side. The alien brought its pincer down like a hammer. Sarge held his PDR-2 to block the blow. With a growl, the brute-like marine shot his knee into the abdomen of the insectoid. The alien doubled back, providing Sarge room to aim and fire two trained shots. The pirate dropped, bleeding on the metal floor. As quickly as it all started, the gunfire suddenly stopped and the last of the chittering died out. The squad maneuvered around the containment pens situated in the middle of the room. Jed flashed his torch, focusing the beam on the side of the transparent containment pens. Big, wet eyes stared back at him. The woman's lips were quivering with fright, cowering in the corner of the pen. Inside the same pen were seven more men and women; each pen was filled with nearly the same number of people.

"Clear," Jed announced. All around, the same report was echoed by each gruffly voiced marine.

"All clear, hostages secured," Sarge reported into the com.

"Sarge," called out Ben. "I found the casualties." In a moment, Sarge made his way around a column of containment pens to find Ben standing in front of one of the transparent pens tucked away in the corner. The side walls and floor were splattered by the blood of the pile of human bodies jumbled together on the floor and slumped against the walls. Few of the bodies wore white lab coats stained maroon from their wounds. In another pen across the room, Mack shook his head grimly, with a sickened look on his face.

"Boss, more dead," he mumbled. Jed walked to the pen, giving an indifferent look to the pile of bodies; nothing new, dead was just part of the routine. One by one, the squad helped the hostages out of the containment pens. Sarge approached one of the groups, slinging his PDR-2.

"FMC, your safe," he announced out loud. "Are any of you in need of medical attention?"

"There's more of us. They took them away some place," a woman said with a shuttering voice. Sarge's gaze fixed on her.

"How many?"

"Three."

"Where?" Sarge inquired.

"Somewhere, I-I-I don't know," she stuttered.

"Probably one of the labs," a man suggested. Sarge nodded then turned to his men who all gathered around him.

"Alright that's priority one but we still have to keep advancing. Charlie," he called out, turning to Hayes and Gould. "You stay here and look over these people. Bravo," he said as he diverted his gaze to Jed and Simone. "Move to secure the Ops deck, I want control of this station and I want it done ASAP." He then turned to Ben and Mack. "Alpha, we're the hunter killers, but first we need to secure those two other hostages. Portman or Goat, once we have them, rally at our location and escort them back here. Ooh rah?" The squad echoed gruffly. His eyes quickly flicked from the two of Fireteam Charlie to Hayes' upper arm. "Goat, get a wrap on that arm."

With Simone and Jed, back tracking through the air vent to the maintenance hatch leading into Sector One, Adam browsed the interface of the station, scanning through Sector Three till he found what he was looking for. Led by Sarge down the main hallway, Ben and Mack scanned their surroundings with their mounted torches, peering down their sites for any sign of a hostile. "Alright, what do you got for me Advisor?" he inquired over the com.

"There's a block of labs on the left side of the next corridor," Adam said.

"Any idea why they were separated?" Ben asked.

"Doesn't matter, Kid," Mack answered. At Sarge's approach of the security door, it opened. Stepping into the next corridor, he scanned it up and down, both Ben and Mack following suit with military precision. In the beam of Ben's torch, he spotted the three doors were labeled with stenciled names on the doors, at the far end of the corridor. Each of the names were proceeded by 'Dr.'

"Fifty says they're in the middle one," Mack mumbled to Ben.

"You're on."

"Make it quiet," Sarge urged with a low voice.

"Alpha be advised," Adam called over the com. "I have no access to those offices."

"Looks like I gotta do everything," Mack sighed as he sneaked to the control panel to the middle door. As he knelt down and set to work with his PDA, Sarge and Ben covered him. Within seconds, the lock was electronically picked. With a light hiss, the door opened sideways. First through in formation was Ben, quickly moving to the right corner as Sarge followed into the left corner. The office was dark and empty, with only a desk and two chairs in one corner and a filing cabinet in another. The back wall was completely transparent, separating the office area from the private lab inside what looked like a large glass box Mack made his way down to the far left hand corner to the door into the lab. He peered through the glass to check that the unlit area beyond was truly empty; it wasn't. Lying on her back in a massive puddle of maroon blood was a woman wearing a white lab coat. Her eyes were still open, yet no sign of life resided.

"Clear," Mack mumbled grimly. The three left the office, sneaking to the next door to the left. Again, Mack worked the lock. The door opened and Sarge was first through.

"Down! Get down!" he bellowed. muffled shrieks and screaming erupted from the doctors as they dived to the floor. A Pirate turned and ejected its acidic discharge. With two precise shots, the alien fell back through the glass, shattering it and sprinkling dark blood all about. Ben entered next, taking out the other alien off in the adjacent corner with just as much precision as he commanding officer; once again proving himself beyond his 'name'. Mack entered again, scanning the front office and peering into the transparent wall of the lab. To the marines' surprise the office and lab was the only room of Sector Three with operable lights.

"Clear," Mack bellowed.

"Clear," Ben echoed. Sarge lowered his PDR-2 and eased his rigid, military stance.

"Advisor, this is Alpha, we have the hostages." From behind the shattered window, the two doctors slowly stood back up, their eyes wide with fright. "Federation Marine Corps," Sarge announced as he stepped through the shattered window. His boots crunched on the glass as he approached them both. Behind him, Mack and Ben provided cover, vigilantly watching the doorway. The two doctors were both a man and a woman. His necktie was slackened nearly to the point of removal. Both his lab coat and latex gloved hands covered in the dark purple blood of their captors. He couldn't stop shaking, even after taking deep breaths as instructed by the Marine Gunnery Sergeant. The woman's black, dreaded hair frayed with stress, though she managed to hold herself together.

"Thank you, oh gosh, thank you," she sighed heavily, catching her breath.

"You're safe now," Sarge assured her. He then diverted his attention. "Goat, Portman, move to my position to retrieve these doctors," he called into the com.

"Roger that," Gould replied. Sarge's attention was then stolen away; his eyes fixed on the three beings lying on the operating tables. Over each of them, a spotlight shined brightly on them.

"What is this?" he asked with a nod at the three pirates on the tables. The woman stepped sideways between Sarge and the aliens.

"They're sick, its why we were taken away from the others," she explained. Whether or not she tried to hide it, she was worried. Sarge stared her down with an estranged look.

"Portman," he said in a low tone over the com. "Double time it, I want them out of here."

"I can't leave," the woman protested with frantic shakes of her head. "Take him but I'm staying," she said pointing to the man seated and under Ben's care.

"That's not an option, Ma'am," Sarge retorted solidly.

"They are my patients, they'll die without me."

"Yeah that'll be a shame," Mack muttered under his breath sarcastically.

"Your not staying and you're sure as hell not taking those things with you," Sarge stated. Mack's PDR-2 suddenly snapped to his shoulder as a figure approached. Foot falls suddenly paused on the grated, metal floors from just around the corner of the doorway. After a moment of stillness, Mack slowly leaned out to the side to peek around from where he stood. The clanging suddenly started again in a rush, carrying down the hall. Mack sprung into action, running out the door and shining his torch down the corridor. "Contact?" Sarge inquired over the com.

"Ooh rah," Mack grunted as dropped to his knee and fired. The trained burst of rounds he fired lit the hall and rattled noisily. To his dismay, his shots did little to stop or slow down the alien as they just crumpled against the insectoid pirate's, exoskeleton. From down the hall, Gould heard the gunshots. Over the com, he also heard Mack's confirmation, adding another burst of speed into his march.

"This is Portman, on your six," he huffed as he ran down to the only light in the corridor, spilling from the open door of the lab into the darkness of the hall. Upon reaching the doorway, he lowered his PDR-2 and took a step inside the lab, giving it a quick, beady glance at the bloody aliens on the floor before refocusing on his NCO.

"Kid, assist Mack. Portman, get these two out of here," Sarge ordered. With a nod to his commander, he then gave a reassuring pat on the scientists' shoulder before taking off through the hall with his PDR-2 in hand. With frantic eyes, she flicked her gaze from Sarge to Gould then back.

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere!" she snapped.

"And I told you, that's not an option," Sarge shot back. "Now either you can cooperate, or you will be sedated. Those are your options." Staring her down with a cold, commanding stare, she finally dropped her head in surrender. "Thank you," Sarge muttered as she stepped beside Gould whom already had the other scientist on his feet. "Get them back with the others," he ordered with a point out the door. Without further delay, Gould led them out the door, taking point and guiding them back to the research containment room. For a moment, Sarge just stood there, taking a glance around the lab and office. Both the dead aliens laid in puddles of their own, dark blood which leaked from the open wounds in their insect-like heads. The lab was a mess with the shattered glass and blood sprinkled about. Then there were the three still alive on the operating tables. Uneasily, Sarge inched closer taking a closer look. Respirator tubes had been placed between their pincer-like mandibles and down their throats. The medical instruments and monitors beeped with three sets of slow heat beat registers. Off to the side at a workstation, were phials of the dark, oozy substance of the alien's blood. Though his inspection was quick, Sarge didn't fail to notice the odd, easily missed, black clumps in the blood, though didn't think much of it. To what extent the doctors were treating these aliens, Sarge had no way of telling, but in his years of experience in the 863rd, a dead alien was the best kind. Drawing his G-79 from his holster, he thumbed back the hammer then switched off the safety. Placing the muzzle flush against the alien's eyeball, he disregarded the slight twitch of pirate's body and squeezed the trigger. One loud bang followed another, then another. As a blood-splattered Sarge walked out of the lab back into the hallway, he holstered his G-79; leaving the three dead bodies on the tables, with dark, clumpy pools oozing over the edges of the tables onto the white floor.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Union Aerospace Corporation Biological Space Laboratory/ Mars orbit/ 10:53 hours/ 7-23-2059

The thrum and whine of the reactor set in Simone and Jed's ears as they reached the squared hatch with the stencil of a two. Jed pushed the hatch open and stepped over the entry, PDR-2 leveled and ready. With only Simone at his side, he kept his guard up and eyes wider than ever. He knew he had to cover his comrade's back and likewise, relied on Simone to do the same. The both of them searched around, peering over the rail of the landing to the floor of the silo. Overhead, five more levels and landings of platforms and catwalks crisscrossed over the span of the silo. "Where's our route, Advisor?" Jed inquired over the com as he deactivated his gun mounted torch.

"Get to the top level, Reaper," he replied. The two of them moved quickly to the catwalk perpendicular to the platform. Continuing down the catwalk, they made their way to the stairs that led to the next levels of platforms. Finally reaching the top, Adam directed them to a final, wide, short set of stairs. Stenciled on the metal doors was a label reading; MAIN DECK. Jed pressed the button on the panel beside the doors which parted with a smooth electronic sound. He was first in, hands on his carbine and eyes forward. Simone sighed as he looked up the slight climb of stairs in the maintenance access shaft.

"Damn, more stairs." In no time, they climbed the squared spiral to the top of the four-leveled shaft. The clanging of their boots stopped as they reached the landing and approached the door at the far end. "Aint these eggheads ever hear of elevators," Simone remarked after taking a settling breath. Jed stood and waited for a moment. In his mind he had pictured their course like a schematic readout. Beyond this door, he knew, was the Main Deck. He tightened his grip on his PDR-2, knowing that very soon, he would have his hands full with hostiles. Another chunk of time passed, time he didn't want to spare.

"Advisor," he barked gruffly. "Door."

"In a moment," Adam barked back. "You're not the only ones I'm conducting here," he added with an irritated growl. Ten, long seconds transpired and finally, the doors opened. Slightly caught off guard, Simone jolted off to the side, hands snapping back in place on his PDR-2 slung across his chest. Jed's ears caught the distinct rapping clang of clawed feet on the metal floors of the station. He pressed himself up against the wall beside the entry and Simone followed his lead. Slowly the clanging of feet approached the open door. A series of chitters broke through the quiet hum of the station's systems. Jed lowly let his PDR-2 hang on the strap across his chest then with swift, silent hands, slid his knife from the hard-case sheath on his hip. Simone's eyes darted from Jed's gray steel blade to his teammate's hard, determined face. There was no mistaking, the alien had approached the open doorway. After taking a steady breath, Simone gave him a single nod and Jed launched from around the corner. With his bare hand, he grasped the back of the pirate's insect head and drove the serrated blade up and in under the pincer-like mouth. The pirate squealed as Jed twisted the blade and forced the alien to the now blood-dripped floor. The Pirate chittered madly, taking a desperate lunge at Jed with its pincers; deflected by a bat of his arm. Simone moved in the moment the alien was forced down, scanning the hall for any sign of the aliens. Pincers still opening and closing madly in its last seconds, Jed tried to keep them all at bay and ducked and weaved his head but was dealt a nasty cut to his cheek. Blood dripped down his hard, scrunched face as he drove the knife deeper. Finally the echoes of the chittering died out and all that was left was a bloody silence.

"That was a tough mother," Simone said as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Sure had a lot to say," Jed answered through heavy breaths. Looking down at both, fingerless gloved hands, he used the clean one to wipe at his blood from the cut on his cheek. The other, soaked in dark purple oozy blood, was covered by odd, dark clumps the size of watermelon seeds.  
"Crap," he remarked under his breath with a curious grimace.

"Let's move," Simone suggested as he advanced forward. On the wall across from them, they found arrows stenciled with labels. Two arrows pointed to their left, directing them to the Habitation Deck and the Operations Deck. Indicated to their right was the Hanger Bay. The two moved left quickly, following Adam's instructions up the stairs through the well-lit halls of the Main Deck. The clean, pristine sanitated halls nearly were white and plain compared to the weathered walls of the Sectors below them. Reaching a door on the top landing, They marched down a straight hallway to the door at the far side. Adam led them through another set of platforms from beyond the door, delving deeper into the Main Deck. Reaching the next door, it opened. Jed and Simone dropped to the floor and scrambled for cover beside the doorway as a stream of acid shot over their heads. Simone leaned from cover, letting off two shots from his PDR-2. Though ineffective, the shots held the pirate at bay. Jed peeked from cover, sighting its fierce red eye with his holographic sight. Squeezing off another two rounds, the pirate jolted just in time and the rounds soared over its head. Another spray of acid launched his way. Jed ducked behind cover with only an inch of clearance. Simone peeked again and let off another pair of rounds. This time, they found their mark and the alien's eye spewed dark purple blood all over the white hall. Continuing onward, Jed and Simone leaped from cover and charged down the hall. Taking a turn here and there, they came to another door which brought them to another room much like the one two doors back. As Jed followed the directions up to a landing and another door to another couple of rooms, he boiled inside. With each empty room he came across, pressure built and the anticipation of the mission's big firefight was amplified and approaching its breaking point. Making their way into the next chamber, Simone looked up to the next landing; a smile growing on his face as he nodded enthusiastically.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he exclaimed. Jed followed his gaze, finding the arrow labeled, OPERATIONS.

"About damn time," Jed grumbled. Right away, he set up the stairs to reach the landing.

"Hold up there, Reaper," Adam bid. With a roll of his eyes and a growl, Jed paused four steps up.

"What?"

"That's the elevator access," Adam explained.

"No crap," Jed snapped condescendingly. "We already got the hostages, who cares if they know we're coming?"

"Because, Reaper," Adam shot back over the com. "They could shut you down. You get stuck in there and there's no way out," he said then sighed to cool his own temper. "You'll have to take the ventilation duct that runs parallel with the elevator shaft."

"Roger," Simone answered. "Take us to it, Advisor." Moving into just one more room, Jed spotted the vent in the ceiling. Behind them, another bloody corpse oozed on the floor after taking two shots to the cranium. Jed held his PDR-2 up and released the spent magazine with fell with a clatter to the metal floor. From his vest's pouch, he slid a fresh one into the well of the stock housing and pulled back the charging bolt near the front. Stacked off to the side of the room, Simone found crates. He dragged one under the vent in the ceiling and climbed it to reach. Pushing gently against the shutters of the vent, it lifted out of place and he shoved it away inside the duct. Jed reactivated his torch and pointed the beam in Simone's direction.

"Need a boost?" Jed asked. Muffled laughter came from inside the vent.

"I'm actually more concerned about you needing help there, Runt," Simone said cheerily.

"Eff you," Jed growled in a low tone over the com. Half of the way through his first mission with the 863rd, Runt was almost Jed's field name. Sarge quickly corrected the team, calling him 'a mother effing reaper' after Jed managed to storm into a hot zone and clear out an entire flank of pirates pinning the Marines down. His death toll only grew from the day. Jed's first issued PDR-2, lost during only his sixth op, had been covered by tallies scratched in place with his knife as he accounted the mission's score on the flights home back to JOB Edwards. Strangely even to himself, he found himself enjoying it for those first six missions. What did he care, they were just blood thirsty pirates.

"Fireteam Bravo, this is Charlie," Hayes said over the com.

"Go ahead, Charlie," Jed replied.

"We may have a situation. Some of the doctors here are telling me that not everyone is accounted for. We think they could be holding more hostages up on the Ops Deck."

"That ought to make things easier," Simone remarked as he stuck his head out of the duct. Jed sighed with grimly.

"Copy that. Bravo, out. Advisor," he called out over the com. "Got anything to add?" Jed mocked.

"It's most likely the Ops crew up there," Adam suggested. "You're the professional, I'll leave you to it." A smirk edged on Jed's hard expression.

"About damn time," he chuckled under his breath. Simone reached down through the opening, clasping wrists with Jed as he had jumped up from the crate. With his free hand, Jed grasped the edge of the duct and pulled himself up inside with Simone's help. Proceeding onwards, they found it easier to accommodate the cramped duct by crawling low on all fours. At the end of the duct, they crawled through another dark opening. Simone found he could stand up fully but found there still wasn't too much room in the duct. He aimed his PDR-2 up at the ceiling to find what was the source of the dull thrumping over head. The beam illuminated the steady rotating of a large fan. At his side was a set of rungs climbing up to a shaft far up the wall of the duct.

"Duke, vocal silence from here on out. Any noise you guys make, they will hear from the ops deck. Back in the cockpit of the docked dropship, Adam saw Simone's fist brought in front of his carbine's camera. He raised his thumb in acknowledgment. As Simone climbed, Jed scooted low through the opening. He provided him light with his own PDR-2 as Simone climbed halfway up the ladder. Then Jed grasped the rung with one hand and held his compact carbine with the other. Once Simone reached to the top, he shined his light down on Jed. Jed released his own PDR-2 and double timed up the ladder to the passage above. Once at the top, Jed looked forward at the light which peeked inside the air duct. Quietly and in the dark, they inched to the vent. Jed peeked through the wide gaps between the shutters. The Operations Deck was a round room with large, open windows providing a view to the space around them. In the corner of the leftmost window, he saw a corner of the large red planet. Five system terminals were situated around the two-floored deck. A banister was extended from the back of the room with two sets of stairs beside each other anchoring it to the deck floor. On the top level, large, solid doors blocked off the central control room from the rest of the deck The constant flash of the red alert light shined over head of the sealed security doors. Under normal operating situations, the security doors were retracted and the control room was open to the rest of the Operations Deck. The station however was for sure under lockdown and under the control of the pirates. The deck was full of them. At least five total patrolled both the upper and lower levels of the deck. As Jed assessed the pirates' patterns, Simone gazed about for their primary objective. He noticed two aliens paired beside each other and behind them huddled against the wall were nearly five humans. Jed felt Simone nudge his shoulder and turned to find what he was pointing at. The two exchanged nods then knelt down low. In his mind, Jed played out the consequences of their next decisions. They had to do this right, or risk getting the hostages killed.

"Clear shot?" Jed whispered.

"Yep," Simone nodded as he brought the body of his carbine tighter against his cheek.

"Eff it," Jed mumbled under his breath, bringing his leg up in front of him and giving one, hard, solid kick. The vent was forced out of place, and fell to the deck floor nearly twelve feet below. He jumped from the opening and crashed into a roll, recovering in a kneeling position. The entire deck erupted in reaction. Pirates all turned their attention to the commotion. Simone worked fast, sighting one of the two pirates guarding the hostages. Taking his time, he fired one precise shot after another from his perch in the ventilation duct. Jed opened fire on the other guard; his shots just barely missing their mark. Behind the aliens, the hostages all huddled closer and ducked from the gunfire coming to their general direction. With the pirate fazed from the impact of rounds on its exoskeleton, Jed rolled out of the line of fire of the remaining aliens. He found cover behind a rear systems terminal situated off to the right on the lower deck. Finally, Simone's shot hit the soft part of the alien's face. Bleeding, the pirate collapsed on top of the hostages, causing them to shriek in fright of the bloody corpse. Streams of acid shot right at Jed, barely missing as they impacted on the terminal, corroding away the outer casing. Jed peeked from cover, aiming his PDR-2 and firing. The majority of his rushed shots harmlessly impacted the exoskeleton of the alien on the balcony above or the wall behind it. Simone diverted his aim to the second guard and took his time with the kill, sending one round down range to the alien's eye. More blood and shrieks erupted from the left side corner; the hostages were safe.

"Moving," Simone called out.

"Go," Jed replied as he switched his PDR-2's firing mode from semi, to burst. He popped from his cover and laid down, conserved, suppressive fire. Simone leaped from the duct and allowed his body to collapse into a roll to absorb the shock in his legs. Ending up on his stomach, the marine quickly scrambled to his feet and found cover behind a rear systems terminal on the left side of the room. One quick glance to his left confirmed for Jed his teammate's location. With three pirates remaining and holding the upper deck, the marines were pinned but not beaten. "Duke, I'll get the ETF's attention, you take it," Jed barked over the com.

"Copy," Simone replied. Jed took a brief moment then bolted from his cover.

"Moving!" he announced as he sent suppressive bursts down range and ran to the systems terminal in the center. Just as intended, the pirate on the lower level focused its spray of acid on Jed. Simone peeked from his cover and fired a burst, hitting his mark with a bloody result. Jed slid to safety behind the terminal just in time to avoid the splash of acid on the floor from the last two pirates on the upper level. Over the busts of gunfire from both his and Simone's PDR-2s, Jed heard the chitters and shrieks of the pirates above. Both Jed and Simone were forced back into cover as one of the pirates discharged spray after spray after spray of acid. Jed couldn't stand it anymore.

"Moving!" he shouted.

"Go," Simone answered instantly. He sprinted across the room from the center systems terminal to the terminal in front of his teammate. "Reaper, go for the upper deck, I got your six," Simone said over the com.

"Copy. Moving," Jed replied. He stood from his cover with his PDR-2 leveled and eyes looking down the holographic sight. Simone suppressed the pirate on the upper balcony, unaware that the other had descended the stairs on the other side of the room. Jed took steady yet fast steps up the stairs, all the while, peering through the sights of his carbine. A stream of acid soared just past Simone's shoulder. For a brief half of a moment, he sighed in relief but the feeling didn't last long enough. A pained, agonizing scream broke from the midst of the gasps and shrieks from behind him as a doctor was hit by the acid. Ducking into cover, Simone turned his head to find a man wearing a red maintenance jumpsuit , doubled over on his knees, gingerly wrapping his arms around his sizzling, bubbling, burning abdomen.

"Oh, crap," Simone gasped under his breath with a grimace. Jed leveled his PDR-2 at the alien at the foot of the stairs across the room. Within two, trained shots, the alien's eye spurt blood and the pirate dropped. He quickly snapped his aim out in front of him and squeezed the trigger five times to drop the alien on the balcony. The fifth shot struck the eye, throwing back the insect-like head. As Jed reached the top of the stairs, the pirate leaned forward and toppled over the rail of the balcony, falling in a bloody mess to the deck floor below. One brief sweep of the deck then Jed lowered his PDR-2 but kept it in hand.

"Clear," he announced gruffly. Simone stood from cover and turned to kneel beside the men and woman huddled against the wall.

"How bad is he?" he asked nodding to the injured man. Already the one doctor of the group had the man lying on his back with his lab coat blanketed over his torso and a maintenance jacket bundled under his head. The doctor folded the lab coat away from the wound which still sizzled. The material of the man's jumpsuit had melted into his corroded, burned skin tissue. A large, messy, hole had burned on his abdomen. The flesh was seared and eaten away, exposing bone and organs. Right away the doctor made a troubling observation, the man had stopped moving. There was no activity and movement happening inside him, let alone the constant trembling from the pain had ceased. Mortified, the doctor looked up at the man's frozen face; mouth and eyes wide open and cheeks still wet from the tears produced from the agony of flesh slowly melting away. Taking a heavy, grieved breath, Simone looked away. His gaze rested on another man wearing the light gray fatigues of the Security Force, slumped against the wall, splattered in his own blood with a gaping stab wound torn through his stomach; a casualty from before their arrival. Simone got himself together and jumped to his feet, charging up the stairs; the job wasn't done just yet. Jed had already set to work on short circuiting the security doors to the central control room. The face of the control panel had been ripped from the door, hanging in place by a series of exposed wires. Kneeling in front of the panel, Jed was fussing with the wires, cross tying select ones while contemplating under his breath which one to yank free.

"Yellow? White? Blue? Damn it! Where's Mack when you need him," he grumbled.

"Waiting for you to open the frickin elevator, Reaper," Mack replied over the com.

"To hell with this, blue it is," Jed grunted. Gripping the wire he pulled hard, ripping it from its connection to the panel. Sparks erupted from the panel and inside the hollowed out slot in the door. The flashing red light above stopped as the doors opened, stalling every other couple of seconds from the obstruction in power flow. Jed immediately moved to the wall against the doorway and Simone took the other side. With the doors half open, Jed pulled a flash-bang grenade from his pouch and primed it.

"Grenade out," he announced and chucked the device into the room. They waited for the concussive pop and flash of light before turning through the doorway. Both had their PDR-2s leveled and fired a pair of rounds each on the same alien ahead of them. Simone kept cover against the door way while Jed advanced inside. The alien at the control hub was shot down, slumped and bleeding over the controls. Jed turned immediately to the remaining alien; an unnerving sight stayed his trigger-finger. The pirate jerked sporadically, flailing its limbs about and throwing its head wildly. To Jed, it seemed as if the alien was under constant electrocution. It chittered horribly with a maniacal pain in it's voice. In his hesitation, he even took note that the being seemed extremely pale with dull pigmentation compared to its dark brown, glossy shelled comrades. Jed shook away the brief pause and fired, squeezing the trigger once. His shot was annoyingly wild and hit the beings upper shoulder. To Jed's surprise, dark blood spurt from the impact; bits of the exoskeleton crumbling away like the fragile shell of an egg. Again Jed, cleared his head and fired again and again, this time center mass. The alien tried to advance as it took each shot jolting back from the impact, but still persistent. Jed paused, knowing his magazine was running low.

"Cover," he shouted. Simone left the doorway and sidestepped along the wall, laying down cover fire as Jed backed away. Releasing the catch, the spent mag clattered to the floor and he slid a fresh one into the well. The alien stood against the line of fire and shrieked at Simone before charging at him.

"Oh crap!" the Marine exclaimed. With its pincer closed, it swung its arm, slamming Simone in the stomach, off his feet against the wall. Crashing hard on the ground, he rolled away from a heavy stomp to the head.

"Hey!" Jed barked. The alien turned its insect head in a stiff, halting motion. Jed fired off another two rounds, trained for the aliens eye. The impact threw the alien's head back and the pirate fell to the floor. Jed quickly rushed to the fallen alien, carbine still trained and ready. He eyed the pirate suspiciously.

"He down?" Simone groaned as he stood back on his feet with his hand over the lower area of his vest. Jed waited another moment, scanning from head to toe of the fallen hostile before answering.

"Yeah."

"What the hell, man," Simone said. "That was some weird crap."

"It was like it was psychotic or something," Jed suggested with a light kick of his boot to the alien's side. He then lowered his PDR-2, allowing it to hang on it's strap. "Advisor this is Bravo," Jed said into the com. "Ops Deck is secure." A pause filled the link between the two.

"Solid copy," Adam remarked dryly. "In the terminal, input these uplink access codes," he instructed. Jed walked to the central control hub. The actual hub was a crescent of consoles and terminals facing the entire, rounded window that provided a panoramic view of the space in front of the station. Jed set to work on the terminal, following Adam's directions. Simone turned away and descended the stairs, his PDR-2 hanging at his side with his hand over its frame. The other maintenance man was checking on a systems console in the room while the doctor and a scientist sat beside each other against the wall. Simone approached the scientist, clinging her arms around her chest and shaking in shock. The doctor was grieving with his face buried in his hands. Blood stained his blue dress shirt, dark slacks and was dried on his hands. Simone knelt down beside the woman first and placed a hand on her shuddering shoulder.

"Hey, hey, breathe," he said. "Breathe, come on, breathe," Simone repeated slowly and soothingly with his smooth, rich voice. Looking into his eyes, she followed the pace of his breaths. "Come on, Doc," he called to the man beside her. "Help her out." The man was frozen, still buried with grief with his knees brought up against his chest. Desperately, Simone looked across to the maintenance man at the station.

"Yo, help her out," he demanded with a nod in the scientist's direction. Nodding, the man came and approached her, squatting to eye level and copying what Simone had done. With a pat on both their shoulders, Simone stood and walked away from them. "Sarge, this is Duke," he said over the com in a low tone.

"Go, Duke," their NCO replied.

"We had hostages up here on the Ops Deck. Two are KIA and three are scared crapless."

"Copy that," he answered in thought. "Alpha's moving to the hanger any second now and we need you there. Can any of them handle a weapon?"

"Unclear," Simone replied as he glanced over his shoulder back at the hostages.

"Leave them with one and then move to rally at the hanger bay."

"Roger that." Simone cut the transmission and started back to the men and woman up against the wall. He suddenly paused and looked down at the foot of a systems terminal. Discarded on the floor, he found a standard issued M91 Beretta. As he knelt to pick it up, his initial thought was that this was the sidearm of the security officer killed among the hostages. He pressed the release beneath the safety slide and let the single, column clip fall into his hand. Two rounds were missing; most likely spent on the exoskeleton of one of the pirates as they raided the Ops Deck. Expertly, Simone slid the clip back into the well of the handgun and pulled back on the slide. He aimed down the sights at a dead pirate's bleeding corpse and squeezed the trigger. Behind him, the scientist yelped and both the doctor and the maintenance man flinched from the bang of the gun. The M91 functioned properly enough. Simone turned and approached the group. "Anyone here know how to use a gun?" he inquired firmly. The doctor seemed not to hear him and the scientist shook her head rapidly. Simone's eyes darted to the maintenance man standing in front of the woman.

"A little," he answered. Simone ran him through an extra watered down, brief run of the gun's function then gently handed it to him just as Jed descended the stairs.

"Duke, let's move," Jed said. He keyed the coms as he continued to the door across the deck. "This is Bravo, we're moving to rally at the Hanger."


End file.
